


Shifts and Pauses

by thelinksthatconnectus (orphan_account)



Series: Disabilityfest 2015 [1]
Category: Birds of Prey (Comic)
Genre: Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Canon Disabled Character, Cassandra Cain is Batgirl, Disabilityfest, Disabled Character, Drabble, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Mentions of PTSD, Minor Angst, One-Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Workaholic Barbara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 13:28:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4264935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thelinksthatconnectus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even workaholics such as Barbara Gordon need a break sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shifts and Pauses

The room hadn't been silent before, the tapping of keys and the ever present ticking of the clock filling the otherwise silent room with noise. Dinah just made things different.

Each footstep she took was purposeful, the clang of her boots against the floor sending an echo through the room. From the corner of her eye, Barbara watched her step up, headed towards the rows of computers and complex machinery, illuminated in shades of digital green and blue.

"You're here early," Barbara said. Her eyes moved back towards her computer monitor, and she continued reading the article she had been looking over earlier. The digital clock read 5:10, a time that no canary, black or not, should have been up. Dinah was many things, but an early bird was not one of them.

"Judging by the coffee mug on your desk, you're here late."

Barbara turned, looking to the long empty black coffee mug sitting on her desk. There wasn't even a drop of coffee left inside.

"What does that have to do with anything?" She paused, her bent fingers hanging just above her computer keys yet never quite reaching them.

Dinah snorted. "You usually come in here with fresh coffee, or make some more in the machine with a new mug."

Barabara turned her head and crossed her arms over her chest (even if, she knew, Dinah could not see them). Her lips pursed into a frown and her eyebrows tightened as they leaned downwards. "And what does that have to do with anything? It just shows that you know my habits." It made sense, of course. How couldn't she when the two had been working together for long, longer than Barbara had with any of the other birds?

You know her, Barbara thought, so why wouldn't she know you?

"What's so important about coffee?"

Dinah laughed. "You and I both know that this isn't about coffee." She stepped forward, her smile from earlier vanishing. "You've been here all night and you didn't even have a caffeine boost to help keep you going."

Barbara paused.

It should have just been an association based on a coffee mug, nothing more, a wild guess based on a piece of evidence. Yet though Dinah was no detective, it didn't take one to put the clues together, especially when there was more than one. Barbara hadn't changed since the day before, let alone left her computer. It wasn't as if her last few weeks of sleep had been going well. Some nights thoughts swirled through her mind, keeping it awake, while other nights dreams forced her awake, haunting images tearing sleep from her. Sometimes she would see the Joker, other times code - lines and lines of it behind her closed eyes, all of it wrong in some way. One mistake on a computer such as hers could lead to something far worse. Mistakes, bad connections.

Battle wounds, Barbara thought.

That was the reason that Cass was taking a break after all. Nothing fatal, nothing that an arm cast couldn't help, but enough for her to need a break from the cape and cowl.

An accident that Barbara could have warned her about, an accident that the young girl could never have imagined but one that that Oracle, surely could have prevented.

"Do you still have that book I got you a couple months ago, the one about workaholics?" Dinah raised a blond eyebrow.

She nodded. "I've been too busy working to read it."

The other woman laughed, and despite herself Barbara couldn't help but smile too.

"It's not that I meant to work all night, it's just that I kept finding things that I needed to do. Emails to check, files to read, information that-"

"So you're keeping yourself awake by going through everyone's dirty laundry?"

"I would hardly call it that."

"I only call it as what I see it to be."

Barbara sighed and turned back towards her computer monitor, shutting off all open files. "What are you even doing here so early?"

"Sometimes I can't sleep." Barbara couldn't see much of her face, but from what she could see from the corner of her eye was what surely was a smile. "I'm sure you understand the feeling. Really, I came over here thinking that you would have just arrived."

"Are you here because you want me to give you something to do?" Barbara folded her hands together. "Is that what you want me to do?"

"I suppose," Dinah replied. "I know that the others needed a break from missions, and I can understand that."

It had only been a few days since their last meeting, when Barbara had connected with everyone she was still working with. By then it was just a handful of women, most either have gone on to work with others or by themselves. Of the few left, all of them had seemed ready for a break.

Not that she could blame them.

Barbara closed her eyes for a moment. There was an aching in her stomach, a grumbling that no late night snacking could satisfy. Her fingers ached, and each time she touched her computer keys, a ripple of pain ran through her body.

"How about getting breakfast?"

Barbara raised an eyebrow. "Breakfast?"

"Hey, everyone gets hungry, and some warm, fluffy pancakes would be good. There are some diners that are open now."

As if on cue, her stomach growled. Barbara looked down to her lap.

"Come on, don't tell me that you want to keep working."

She bit her lip. "No, I suppose not." Barbara spoke in a quieter voice than usual. She had seen her teammates' - her friends' - eyes at the last meeting, covered with black eyes and mouths set into deep frowns.

No one had ever said that superheroes had easy lives, but no one had ever said that they didn't get breaks either.

What did they see when they looked at her? Around them she didn't have to wear her green mask, didn't have to hide her true face and body. Did they really see her the way that Dinah described her?

"Some pancakes sound good." Barbara rubbed her belly. "I'm hungry."

There was sunlight outside, newspapers, fresh air. Little things that she forgot about sometimes in her little technological corner of the world.

Barbara turned, wheeling over to her ramp. "I might need to get changed first."

"Believe me," Dinah replied, "I can wait a little longer."

-

She closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze flow through her hair. Dinah stood up beside her, eyes turned upwards towards the sky.

"This is nice," Barbara commented, breaking the silence. The cheeping of birds was the only other sound in the park, save for the occasional squeaking of old playground swings being moved by the wind. "Let's stay out a little longer."

Dinah's only response was to make a slight humming noise.

For a moment, Barbara opened her eyes, looking upwards to the woman beside her. Her face was illuminated by the slowly rising sun, shining as if she were some woman of legend.

Even when she closed her eyes again, the face stayed before, the image of the other woman burning behind her eyelids.


End file.
